* * *
It took them nearly ten minutes of asking, with mostly unhelpful shrugs in response, before finally they found the post-op room he was being kept in. Under guard, Dani noted.
‘In case you’re wondering, we did have an escort too initially, but I sent them away,’ Easton said as they headed along the corridor.
The uniformed officer sitting in the chair outside Jason’s room stood up and held his ground as Dani and Easton approached. Dani explained who they were, and although reluctant, it seemed like he was about to let them through, until—
‘Detectives, please.’
Dani turned to face the white-coated woman hurrying down the corridor towards them. When she reached them, Dani glanced to her name tag. Dr Ramachandran.
‘He’s only been out of theatre for an hour,’ she said. ‘He’s not in any shape for you to see him.’
‘Theatre for what?’ Dani said.
Ramachandran sighed and looked as though she was building up to explain. ‘A collapsed lung. Initially. The knife wound to his back went through the ribs and punctured his left lung. But we had complications too. While we were operating he suffered a cardiac arrest. Twice. There was a lot of internal bleeding as well, including on his brain. We had to operate immediately on that, or he would have suffered a fatal haemorrhage.’
Dani was lost for words. How the hell had Jason gone through all that and come out the other side alive? All the while she’d been sitting in a bed across the way while staff busied themselves about her damn cut leg.
‘We’ve done what we can but he’s too fragile for us to operate any more,’ Ramachandran added.
Tears welled in Dani’s eyes.
Easton put his hand to her shoulder. ‘What are you saying?’ he asked.
‘He’s in an induced coma, and on life support. But I have to be very clear, there’s minimal brain activity and it’s far too early to say if or when or how he’ll recover. Right now we can’t do anything more than wait and hope he improves sufficiently for us to be able to reassess next steps.’
‘I want to see him,’ Dani said, trying to block out the doom and gloom words.
‘He won’t be able to communicate with you at all, or even hear you. Please, I’ll let you see him, but don’t touch or disturb him. He’s simply too fragile.’
Dani nodded, and Ramachandran stepped around and pushed open the door.
Blips and beeps and the whoosh and wheeze of the ventilator filled Dani’s ears. It was an effort just to step inside the room, and she only managed one before she stopped as her eyes fell upon the figure in the bed in the darkened space. All that could be made out of Jason was one arm sticking out of the sheets – a catheter taped just above his wrist – and his neck and bottom half of his face, with his forehead and scalp covered in thick white bandages. His eyes were closed, and his face was puffy.
‘I have to stay with him,’ Dani said.
‘Detective, it’s really not going to help, I—’
‘I’m staying with him. I can’t go home and leave him here.’
Ramachandran huffed some but eventually relented and soon she was gone.
‘Do you want me to stay too?’ Easton asked.
‘No,’ Dani said. ‘Go home and get some rest. You can pick me up in the morning.’
‘Are you sure you’ll be ready?’
‘I need some sleep. We both do. And I’d rather be here with Jason than anywhere else tonight. But come tomorrow, we’ve still got a killer to catch.’
Easton said nothing. Dani didn’t look at him. She’d made the position clear and she wasn’t going to change her mind.
‘OK,’ Easton said after a few moments of silence. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
He turned and limped out of the room.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The knife wound on my side hurt like hell a few hours ago, but with a few drugs in me the pain is all but gone now. I’m still enraged about it though. How fucking dare they do this to me?
I stitched and bandaged the gash myself. Perhaps not the best quality treatment one can get, but I know it’s good enough, and I’m really not bothered about a bit of scarring if my needlework isn’t up to scratch.
What I am bothered about is the fact that bastard stabbed me. And the fact he’s still breathing.
Your mistakes are stacking up. I’m beginning to question if you’re really up to this.
I’m up to it. And I’m adapting. That’s all I can do.
First the bite: that has to be how they identified you so quickly. Then Sophie. Now this. Not just a mistake, but a failure.
It’s not too late to make amends. And I will make amends.
I chose you because I thought you could handle this.
I can and I will handle this. In fact, I’m already planning my next move. And I’m still on top here, have no doubt about that. Look how easily I got away from them. And I’m not running. I’m staying right here to finish the job. I even did exactly what they would never have expected me to do. I dumped that little yellow car I’d stolen and then headed on foot all the way back to where I’d come from to collect my van. Just as I expected, they’re not clever enough to spot me if I continually tweak my appearance. Act confident, act like you belong, that’s a big part of it too, but even I’m surprised just how easy it was as I walked right past the house, right past the still milling ambulances and police cars, jumped into my van and drove off.
I get so much energy from being so close to them. Yes, I’ve had some pitfalls, but I feel I’m really perfecting this now, living like a ghost. They only know me, only see me, when I want them to. When I strike.
By which point it’s too late.
Yes, the list should have shown one more tick tonight, there’s nothing I can do about that now. It will come another day.
Day always follows night.
Death always follows life.
Tomorrow I start again. And there will be more blood.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
By Monday morning, Dani was at least feeling like the worst of her concussion had passed. Despite wanting to keep on the case twenty-four-seven, she’d spent many hours over Saturday and Sunday at the hospital, both to be with Jason, but also to continue her regimen of checks. The conclusion of the doctors, thankfully, was that her brain was fine. As fine as it could be anyway.
The same couldn’t be said for Jason.
He remained in a coma, and the doctors were remaining tight-lipped as to when they were expecting to see any kind of improvement in his condition. Dani could literally do nothing but wait.
Yet the worst hours of the weekend weren’t those spent uselessly by Jason’s side, but those spent at home. The pain of being in their house, not just the place where she and Jason had made a life together, but the place where that life had been so violently interrupted, was both heartbreaking and harrowing.
Easton had offered to put Dani up, so too had Gemma. But Dani didn’t want to run and hide. She would face this dark spell head-on, no holds barred, just like she had in the past.
McNair had insisted both Dani and Easton could take some time off to recuperate. The force with which Dani had rejected that idea had nearly caused a tremor across the whole West Midlands.
And so Monday morning rolled around and after a stuttering weekend it was time to get things moving again.
Top priority remained finding Damian Curtis, and an extensive team continued to work to that effect in the background at HQ and beyond, siphoning through whatever data they could get their hands on, knocking on doors here, there and everywhere. The police had also now been granted access to the Redfearnes’ personal data, including phone, email and financial records, and a team were mobilising in HQ that morning to get started on analysing that data as it became available. The barrage of abuse from the Redfearnes’ lawyers, Amanda Johansson in particular, had already started, but it was thankfully McNair’s task to bat that back.
Dani and Easton had other plac
es to be.
‘Dani.’
The soft voice jolted Dani from her rumbling thoughts as she headed past her front gate towards her car. Naturally on edge, she’d already scoped out the street, looking up and down more than once as she’d walked down the drive, yet she’d not spotted the slim figure of Larissa Clarkson at all. Had she been hiding in wait?
Dani turned to face Larissa, who was all of five yards away on the pavement, but she also took a half-step back, so her hand was only an inch from her now open car door.
Larissa, head hunched down in a baggy hoody, was yet again bleary-eyed – the effect of continuous tears? Or was she now on something? As innocent a party as Larissa was in the horrific crimes of her father, Dani also knew Larissa had had a far from straightforward upbringing, had been something of a troublemaker, to put it lightly, and illicit drugs would certainly not be hard for her to come by given the people around her. Not that Dani could fault the young woman if she felt the need to turn to alcohol or drugs to get her through.
‘Larissa, wh—?’
‘I just wanted to say… I’m sorry… Sorry for turning up here the last time, surprising you.’
‘Look…’ Dani started, but she really didn’t know what to say. The truth was she felt terrible for how she’d left Larissa in the lurch at court, and how she’d turned Larissa away from her home the last time; but then once again, Larissa being here, unannounced, just felt… wrong. ‘It’s just I’ve got so much going on. Please don’t feel I’ve washed my hands of you now the trial’s over. I still want to help you. If you want—’
‘I only came to say goodbye.’
Dani paused. ‘Oh?’
‘That was it.’
‘You’re going somewhere?’
‘I don’t think I ever properly said thank you. For what you’ve done for me. So… thank you.’
‘There’s no—’
‘Goodbye, Dani.’
Larissa turned on her heel and walked away. Dani was caught in the same quandary as before. Why did she feel so rattled all of a sudden, in the presence of this nervous and damaged seventeen-year-old?
Dani began to head on after Larissa. ‘Wait.’
Larissa didn’t let up.
‘Larissa. Shall I buy you a coffee? We can talk.’
Dani increased her pace. But what was she going to do? Rugby tackle her if she didn’t stop?
Then Larissa suddenly darted left, straight into the road. A black pick-up truck roared towards her. The horn blared, tyres screeched…
It missed Larissa by inches, but she just carried on, oblivious.
The driver gesticulated as he accelerated and headed on past. Dani took one step into the road to follow. Larissa, on the other side, turned to face Dani, causing her to pause once again.
Then Dani’s phone rang.
She lifted it from her purse, barely taking her eyes off Larissa.
Easton.
But when she set her eyes back over to the other side of the road, Larissa had gone.
Dani shivered as she answered the phone.
‘Easton?’
She realised how out of kilter she sounded.
‘I’ll be at yours in two minutes. Thought you’d appreciate a lift.’
Dani slumped. She’d been expecting something a bit more dramatic than that.
‘I’ll wait outside.’
* * *
An hour later Easton and Dani were left twiddling their thumbs in the reception area at Long Lartin prison, awaiting a chaperone. When the doors in front of them opened and Dani glanced over and saw the dull grey skirt and suit jacket of the person coming through, she immediately thought it was Deputy Governor Cartwright coming out to greet them, and she had to double-take when she saw the face attached to the clothes, and realised she was actually looking at Dr Collins, the psychiatrist.
The doctor seemed to do the exact same thing when she clocked Dani and Easton. She changed course to head over to them, though as she neared she looked about as comfortable as a cat in a swimming pool.
‘Detectives, what a coincidence,’ Collins said.
‘Is it? If you ask me, the coincidence isn’t you being here now, Dr Collins, but the fact that you’re the psychiatrist for two killers who shared a cell. I’m still trying to figure that one out.’
Judging by the awkward look on Collins’s face, she had no idea how to take that comment.
‘I presume you’ve been here to see Ben?’ Dani said. ‘Unless you have a whole fleet of killers here under your watch.’
‘And I presumed you were my two new security guards. You know I’m under twenty-four-hour watch now? There’s an unmarked car sitting out there, some schmuck in there for my personal pleasure.’
‘Under watch? He’s there to protect you. You think it’s a joke that Damian Curtis is out there getting his revenge on everyone involved in his trial? You should be glad we’re taking this so seriously.’
‘You think that’s what Damian is doing? Seeking revenge?’
‘Are you saying he’s not?’
‘Well, if that is what he’s doing, I’d hardly be a target. I’m one of the few people who’s helped him these last few years.’
‘Then I’d be more than happy to ask my boss to remove any form of protection for you. If that’s what you want?’
Collins was now glaring at Dani.
‘Thought so,’ Dani said. ‘So you’ve just seen Ben, I presume?’
‘A bit of an assumption on your part, but actually, yes. You’re probably aware his legal team is continuing to work on his appeal.’
‘And of course your input into that is going to be of the utmost importance, if they’re ever going to get him off for the heinous crimes he committed.’
‘Get him off? I’m really not sure what you’re hinting at there, Detective. I don’t dictate the laws of this land, and I do hope you’re not bringing my professionalism into question. Again.’
‘Of course not, Doctor.’
Dani realised Easton was squirming next to her, not sure whether or not to take part in the barbed conversation. He was better out of it, to be honest.
‘I can only think that perhaps your rude and aggressive tone with me is related to your ongoing case, rather than my being here,’ Collins said.
‘My case?’ Dani said. ‘Curtis was your case, wasn’t he?’
‘He was my patient. Whatever happened to get him in, and out, of this place was outside my control and input.’ Collins put her hands to her hips and huffed dramatically. ‘You know, I only came over to say hello to you out of courtesy. I’m sorry for having done so.’
She went to move away.
‘So what’s your take now?’ Dani asked.
Collins paused. ‘On what?’
‘On Ben? Is he sane or not?’
‘It’s not a simple question of insanity or otherwise.’
‘But what’s your verdict? You testified before that he wasn’t in full control when he killed. When he tried to kill me. Is he in full control now? Is he no longer a threat to the public?’
‘I haven’t reached a full conclusion on that yet.’
‘What about Curtis?’
Collins sighed. ‘I haven’t seen Curtis since his release; you know that already.’
‘What would you have said about Curtis before his release? Was he no longer a threat to the public?’
‘I can’t deny the facts, and that for whatever reason it looks like he’s seriously fallen off the rails.’
‘You reckon?’
‘I told you before, Curtis is very different to your brother. He’s suffered mental health problems for much of his life.’
‘Yet only now has he decided to become a homicidal psychopath. So why’s that then?’
‘Interesting choice of words, actually,’ Collins said.
‘What is?’
‘Psychopath. You probably think you know what it means. You’ve seen plenty of movies, read books where there’s a psycho on the loose. Someone who
’s mentally deranged and kills at will with no remorse.’
‘You’re saying that’s not what a psychopath is?’
‘Unfortunately not. There are a good many psychopaths who are exactly like that. The problem is, psychopaths are often the opposite of stupid.’
‘Clever, would have been an easier way to put it,’ Dani said, receiving a glower in response.
‘Very funny,’ Collins said. ‘My point is, psychopaths aren’t crazed lunatics, dribbling, speaking gibberish and rocking back and forth in a chair. Often they’re charming, articulate, intelligent. They can come across as the most normal people in the world. But they simply don’t think and don’t feel like you or me. Love, even hate, fear, empathy, all of the human emotions most of us exhibit naturally, are simply traits they don’t have. In fact they often learn to mimic emotions simply to allow them to appear normal. It’s cold, and it’s calculated.’
At those words Dani couldn’t help but be reminded of her own mental misgivings. During her initial recovery from her TBI, she’d endured months of tests, scoring the lowest possible results for display of emotions. Her brain simply hadn’t functioned like it had in the past. She still struggled now, though to a lesser extent. A lack of empathy, outbursts of anger that were uncontrolled even if they weren’t exactly unprompted, were all signs of her ongoing less than perfect mental state. But had she really recovered from those initial dark days, or had she simply learned to mimic, just like Collins was suggesting psychopaths did?
‘But remember,’ Collins said, ‘no psychopath sees themselves as such. They don’t see themselves as bad, or for the monsters they are. In their own world, they are the hero.’
‘So what you’re saying,’ Easton said, ‘is that Curtis could have been a psycho all along, but he was pretending to be OK? Well, kind of OK, but not really… you know what I mean. Don’t you?’
‘Not really,’ Collins said before she checked her watch. ‘And I never said I was talking about Curtis, did I? Sorry, detectives, I really do have to leave.’
She turned and walked away, leaving Dani to ponder those unsettling words.
The Rules of Murder Page 23